


An Ode to Cooperation

by puddinpotato



Category: Far Cry 3
Genre: Cooperation, Gen, Pirates, Violence, coop - Freeform, stuff?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 16:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2587424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puddinpotato/pseuds/puddinpotato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikhail meets Vaas in this little piece and introductions do not go as smoothly as they could have.  Tisha runs from pirates with a bullet hole in her leg.  Callum and Leonard to the rescue.  In the end, they all find themselves in a quite larger pickle than they had expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Ode to Cooperation

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I'd join up here, and see how things go. I am a HUGE fan of the coop campaign, and my fangirlism belongs to Mikhail. I've been wanting to write something for these peeps for quite some time, and decided to check here to see if there was any love for these peeps. I'm new, I apologize for my noobness, new to writing though? No, not at all. But enough blither blather, let us start with Mikhail. 
> 
> Warnings include some cursing between English and Spanish and (using Google translate yes not the most reliable but...) Russian.

XXX

An Ode to Cooperation

Mikhail

XXX

Surf. Ocean. Seagulls. A faint growl in the distant. Wind...

Sand. Water. A rock beneath his chest.

A golden glow. A blurry orange. A crab scuttling near his hand.

Abruptly, he began to cough, sputtering up a lungful of sea water, his throat scratched and raw, his hands fisting themselves into the sand, the crab reacting defensively, raising its claws and sidestepping away. Slowly, Mikhail rolled onto his back, groaning and squinting his eyes, rubbing them of water and sand and pushing back the wet locks of brown from his forehead. God but he hurt, his muscles ached something fierce, his back creaked, and he felt absolutely drowned. He had drowned. He was sure of it. Tawny brown eyes cast to the side, observing the crawling crab as it snapped defensively at his arm. Muttering Russian curses to the little creature, Mikhail's eyes locked onto the tattoo on his forearm. Slowly, shakily, he ran his fingers over her face, a quiet sob escaping his lips as he whispered her name. "Daisu." He ground his fists into his eyes, baring his teeth before letting loose an angered growl.

What happened? What? Why? Everything had ended. They were done with the islands. Done chasing men in red and yellow. Done with that back stabbing captain. They'd gotten their money. They'd won their freedom. They were done! They were leaving! They were going to find new homes, new lives...

The boat...Seto...pirates...the water...no, no he couldn't be...this couldn't be! No! They had made it!

On his knees, he berated the white sands, sending his fists flying against the earth and the crab crawled back, away from the striking human, determined now as good a time as any to get the fuck away from there.

" _Nyet! Nyet! Nyet! Nyet_!" Over and over and over Mikhail sent his fists slamming down into the beach, eyes closed tightly as sand flew into his face and hair and down his dripping wet tank top. He screamed at the beach, cried and beat it mercilessly before collapsing onto his back into its warm grains, his body exhausted, his anger dwelling to a quiet frustration, a hint of sadness in his eyes. He rubbed them with his palms, inhaling a shaky breath before trailing his hands over his forehead and into his hair once more.

This couldn't be happening...they were done...they had won...

"Hey there, _hermano_ ," he heard a strange voice say above him, and he squinted his eyes in the sunlight, at the silhouette haloed by its rays. "Enjoying my sunshine?'

All Mikhail had to see was the color of the stranger's shirt, and he was on him in a flash, adrenaline coursing through his body as he tackled him to the ground with the ferocity of a wild bear.

The man in red showing himself had been the straw to break the camel's back. Mikhail's judgement was finally blurred, and he was no longer the calm and collective leader he'd been molded into since childhood. He was a feral beast, all reasoning leaving him as he sent his fists into the man's face, no thought or care as to who he was or what he wanted. He was wearing red and that's all that mattered to Mikhail.

That's all Mikhail saw was red as he threw his fists one at a time into the pirate's face. He growled out Russian obscenity after Russian obscenity, each one punctuated with a punch.

" _Fucking! Dick eating! Son! Of! A bitch!_ " He breathed heavily, heart pounding like a bass drum in his chest and just as he was sure the damned thing was unconscious, it flew at him, catching him off guard and flinging him to the side.

"Fucking hit me motherfucker!?" the stranger yelled, sending his own flurry of fists into Mikhail's skull before the Russian caught his arm, managing to knock him away with a knee in his chest. The pirate scurried to his feet as did Mikhail, the former smirking with blood stained lips and throwing a joke as he raised his gun, the little cheat Mikhail thought bitterly.

"Wow, they weren't kidding when they said you were tough," the pirate said, a Hispanic accent coating his words and he licked blood from the corner of his mouth and eyed Mikhail with a humorous gaze. "They grow 'em big in Russia, hah?" he said, eying up the taller man before him.

Mikhail spat blood to the pirate's boots, taking his stance and readying himself for yet another fight if he could get that gun away from him. He was without his own gun, his machete, hell all he had was a fucking piece of shit pocket knife he'd looted off a dead corpse not long after he'd landed on this island the first time. He could do little more than observe his enemy, noting that though the Hispanic male was significantly shorter than himself, he was just as built with heavy muscle and his movements had been quick and unpredictable. It's okay, Mikhail told himself. He may be tough but you're tougher. You're Russian for fuck's sake!

"You took my money," the man said with a sudden snarl, the humor quickly vanishing from his eyes and Mikhail stood his ground.

" _Mudák!_ " he snarled right back, keeping a keen eye on the pirate. He looked like all the others, red shirt, cargos, and army boots, even a mohawk he'd seen sported by a number of the others. It was the scar that made him stand out; it was a shallow crevice reaching from the man's left eyebrow to stretch across the top of his skull. Vaas. He'd heard it from the pirates, heard it from Seto, Vaas was their leader. Their king. And he no doubt got into that position by being the best of the best among the crew. No doubt he'd killed and mangled enough people to maintain his leadership as well. But how well can he fight? How well can he handle himself? Does he even need that gun?

"That money," Mikhail seethed, glaring at the pirate before him with nothing but vengence in his sight. "Is OURS! We worked for it!"

"And I fucking worked for you!" Vaas shouted back, waving his gun at every word. "You think you're such tough shit just cuz you're some kind of fucking Russian gangster?"

Mikhail narrowed his eyes and Vaas laughed. "Yeah that's right I know all about you, Mikhail," he said with a chuckle. "The Captain didn't leave much out. Worked for the Vory right? Till you let your fucking emotions get the better of you." He offered another hearty chuckle and Mikhail scowled. "Look where it got you, _hermano_. Right up shit creek. Women," he scoffed. "Nothing but trouble, am I right? I mean shit, just look at you. You look like shit man. And all this for your fucking pussy? Trust me when I tell you, she's not worth it."

Mikhail watched the pirate swerve with his gun, chuckling with humor but the tattooed man could see the rising fury behind those green eyes. The man was pissed, but not as pissed as Mikhail. The moment came, and Mikhail struck with proficiency, biding his time through Vaas' rambling and taking a full on YOLO approach. He lunged straight for the gun, the trigger pulled and a deafening BANG shot through his ears but he was alive, missing the bullet by mere centimeters as it whizzed over his head. With the gun and enemy's hand in his grasp he sent a solid fist straight into the man's chin. He made to kick out his legs, but Vaas' reaction time was much faster than Mikhail had anticipated.

He jumped the kick and sent his own straight into the taller man's side, but Mikhail kept hold of Vaas' gun hand with a tight grip, turning and sending an elbow into his face one, two, three times. Vaas had a death grip on the thing though and ducked under a fourth attack, shoving his body against Mikhail's and the two landed once again in the sand.

The two dogs fought furiously over the gun, punching, kicking, growling and shouting before the thing landed mere feet from the pair. Mikhail got one last punch into Vaas' face before thrusting himself off the smaller male, making straight for the gun before a pair of arms was around his waist, pulling him back, fingers digging into his scalp and pulling his hair as the pirate crawled over him. Mikhail shook his head, blinking sand from his eyes as he rose to his feet, intent on bringing the pirate down once more and this time, eh wasn't going to let up. He was going to fucking kill him-

"Chert," he mumbled, eyes on the gun pointed straight to his head.

Vaas chuckled again, wiping blood from his mouth. "Wow you're one quick fuck, aren't you?" he said humorously before clenching his teeth and scowling. "But not quick enough."

"If you're going to kill me, do it now," Mikhail threatened, a pang in his chest and a stirring storm in his mind. "While you still have the chance."

Again, the pirate Vaas laughed, like his previous anger had never existed at all and Mikhail found his hands clenching tightly at his sides. "Wow, just fucking, wow! Hehe. Man you got some fucking balls down there, just how do you put your pants on in the morning, hermano?"

Mikhail didn't falter. "One ball at a time," he answered, brown eyes following the gun wherever it waved.

Vaas let loose another laugh, eyes glinting with humor as he shook his head in disbelief. "They really do grow them tough, don't they? Yeah nobody messes with those Vory fucks. I can see why. But let's get real here." The smile was gone, and the murderous gaze was back. "You really wanna go back to your woman? Right? Yeah? You want me to just let you...wander outta here and back to your pussy? Well I want you to get on your knees and fucking beg me to."

Mikhail raised an eyebrow, and the pirate lord took a step towards him, gun still pointed to his head.

"I said, fucking kneel," he repeated, sticking the barrel of the gun straight between Mikhail's eyes, and still, the tattooed man neglected to obey. "I'm sorry are you fucking deaf! You wanna see your puta again? I said get on your knees-"

"I kneel for no one!" the Russian fumed, matching Vaas' steps until they were practically breathing on one another. If the pirate was attempting to play a game he would be sour to hear Mikhail wasn't interested. He'd been brought up stone faced and steel skinned. This was not the first time some _khuy_ had threatened him, and if Mikhail had anything to say about it, it wouldn't be the last. He knew this game, he knew it well, played it himself. But now, after all the shit, the running, the fighting, the killing...he was done. He was fucking done with this island and its inhabitants. Mikhail didn't grab for the gun this time; his senses were drawing clearer, and he doubted another grab would be as successful as the first. Somehow he doubted Vaas would even pull the trigger, regardless of how much he seemed to desperately want to. " _Nikto_!" he growled, and Vaas' nostrils flared with anger.

Green eyes met brown, and Vaas ground his teeth together before muttering out a final statement. "Fine. Hope you said goodbye to your _familia,_ cuz you won't be seeing them again... _amigo_."

XXX


End file.
